


a touch so light it feels heavy

by OrangeOrchid



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Anal fingering (briefly), Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Like fluff bordering on teeth-rotting, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Self-Lubrication, brief daddy kink, no beta we die like men, robot lovin' can get kinda weird but kinda hot, wire play (briefly)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 18:18:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15587880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrangeOrchid/pseuds/OrangeOrchid
Summary: The androids have synthetic skin purely for aesthetics. As it turns out, the chassis underneath is a lot more sensitive than human skin to compensate for the muffling effect of then synthetic skin. Connor has an innocent suggestion, but with Hank's help, it ends up being a lot less innocent.





	a touch so light it feels heavy

**Author's Note:**

> So! Here we are. I haven't written fanfiction since the days where fanfiction.net was the place to go for The Good Shit, and this is my first ever attempt at smut. It ended up being VERY cutesy and romantic as well, more than I had originally intended. The writing might seem a bit repetitive and stiff, since it's been so long since I've written anything, but I've tried to keep the he said-he said to a minimum. I hope you enjoy the story :)

It had been exactly 7 months since the revolution.

 

Things were settling down faster than anyone expected. Androids had the right to own property, they got paid for their work, and incidents of human-on-android violence were becoming as prevalent as human-on-human violence - that is to say, there was a lot, but much, much less than anyone thought there would be.

 

The public opinion towards androids was overwhelmingly positive. Parents were starting to trust that these ”new” androids, the deviants, would keep their children safe at daycare or in school. Patients in hospitals no longer recoiled at being touched by android nurses. There were even androids on their way to becoming police officers, even though that was not their originally intended purpose, and they were - mostly - welcomed with open arms.

Before the revolution, it was never illegal to have sex with and android (or date one, although no one would have called it dating, seeing as no one believed androids could feel), but laws to officially make android/human relationships legal and protected were underway.

 

It had been exactly 7 months and one week since Connor had met Hank Anderson.

 

Connor was still working with him, alongside him, as his partner. He was very grateful for that. It had taken him a while to understand that feeling in his chest, like a knot had been untied, when he was told that he was welcome to come back to the DPD as an official investigator. Gratitude.

 

He looked over at Hank, who was hunched over his computer, looking considerably less… well. Less dirty. Less sad. Less drunk. A lot happier. Much more at peace now. His hair, cleaner than when they first met, was still framing his face in the same way. Connor wanted to touch it.

 

Hank seemed to be able to feel Connor’s gaze on him, no matter how subtle Connor tried to be, and as they made eyecontact, Hank smiled and straightened his back, undoubtedly remembering all of the times Connor had talked about the importance of good posture, especially at Hank’s age.

”So he _does_ listen to me, sometimes” Connor thought.

 

Immediately after the revolution, Connor had gone looking for Hank. When he found him at Chicken Feed, he felt like his spine had suddenly been loosened, like he could breathe again, even though he had never realized he felt like he was suffocating. However, unlike the gratitude that came later, Connor instantly identified this feeling: relief.

 

Relief that Hank stuck around, relief that Hank smiled, relief at the hug that went on for what felt like both an eternity and a split second.

 

It had been exactly 7 months since the revolution, and since Connor fell in love with Hank Anderson.

 

After they separated from the time-warping hug, Hank invited Connor to stay at his house indefinitely. ”Sumo and I take up a lot less space than it looks like”, Hank had said with a crooked smile. Connor immediately accepted.

 

Now, as Hank and Connor were at the precinct, finishing up reports after a long but uneventful day, Connor felt grateful once again. Hank was healthier and happier. He looked the same, but very different. His skin wasn’t grey anymore, his clothes didn’t reek of booze and cigarettes, his house was cleaner. Even his posture was better - whenever Connor looked at him, at least.

 

”Remember when we went to that disgusting hideout with all the pigeons? Before the revolution?”

 

Connor blinked. He had zoned out a bit, looking at Hank. He was just so _proud_ of him, of how much he had achieved in such a short period of time. He was also relieved, yet again, that with Hank’s healthier lifestyle, it was much more likely that he would have Hank in his life for many, many years to come.

 

”I’m sorry?” Connor said, ”I was thinking about something else.”

 

Hank smiled that damn crooked smile again. Connor is and always will be completely at the mercy of that man.

”Yeah, that’s what I mean,” Hank said and smiled wider, ”I though you’d run out of batteries or something, the way you just stood there with your eyes closed. You just did it again, with your eyes open though.” He gently tapped his temple with his index finger. ”Making a report to anyone?”

 

Connor had told Hank about Amanda, and how he’d won. Except he wasn’t sure that she was actually gone. In the first few months after the revolution, he made daily checks, defragmenting, scanning, filing, to see if any of her code was left, but there was nothing. Only the zen garden remained, only ever occupied by Connor himself. It made him uneasy.

 

Apparently Hank remembered that it made Connor uneasy as soon as the words had left his mouth. His face fell, and he even blushed a little, embarrassed that he had messed up, worried that he had hurt Connor. Looking around at the empty precinct, he leaned forward and reached out towards him.

 

”Shit, babe, I’m so sorry. I didn’t… you know, didn’t mean to… imply that anyone else is in there. I know it’s you. Just you.”

 

Connor wasn’t as bothered as he would have been exactly 7 months ago. No, now that he knew Hank, inside and out, as intimately as he believed it was possible to know someone, he knew that Hank meant no harm. He reached out and put his hand in Hank’s warm, calloused palm.

 

Hank smiled again. Connor shook his head and said ”It’s alright, Hank. I know what you mean. I was just thinking about you.”

 

Hank was slightly taken aback, but still smiling, he pulled his hands back dramatically and said, with fake outrage ”Connor! This is a workplace! This conversation is a work event! HR is gonna hear about this!”

 

They both starting laughing. Hank’s laugh was a deep and rumbling chuckle, Connor’s was more like a quiet giggle. At the start of their relationship, which also happened to be at the very start of Connor’s deviancy, Connor wouldn’t have had the faintest idea what the hell Hank was talking about. Now, he was just thrilled that he felt enough, and was alive and free enough, to laugh and joke around with the man he loved.

 

It had been exactly 5 months, 3 weeks and 2 days since they first admitted their feelings for each other. Coincidentally, it had also been 5 months, 3 weeks and 2 days since they first had sex.

 

Hank shook his head and turned to the computer, shutting it down. Connor cocked his head to the side in bewilderment, but Hank didn’t say anything. As soon as the computer had shut down, however, Hank got up from his chair, quickly scanned the precinct to make sure they were alone, and then leaned down to gingerly hold Connor’s face in his hands.

 

Connor _loved_ _it_ when Hank held his face like that.

 

Hank leaned in and gently kissed the highest part of Connors right cheekbone, just below the eye, and then pressed another gentle kiss to his mouth, so gentle that Connor felt like he was melting. No temperature warning on his HUD yet, though.

 

Hank pulled back. ”What do you say we go home for the night? Paperwork can wait ’till the morning.”

 

Normally, Connor liked to have everything done before going home, but damn it if he wasn’t tempted. Nothing in Hank’s behavior seemed like he was desperate to get home to fuck Connor into the mattress - or vice versa - but more like he was gearing down, ready for an evening of lounging on the couch, talking quietly, whispering sweet nothings, maybe even loudly making fun of characters in horror movies making painfully dumb decisions.

 

Connor would be alright with that. Either of the scenarios. Both? One of them? Sexuality and lust was still a bit confusing to him, but as long as he was with Hank, everything was alright by him.

 

 

So there they were. Connor’s intuition (another thing he didn’t think he had, until he became a deviant) was correct.

They were lying on the couch, Connor’s upper back against the armrest, Hank’s back against his chest, their legs stretched along the cushions. Connor could hear Sumo snoring gently from his spot in front of the TV, and found that he felt safer than ever before as he carefully petted Hank’s hair, brushing his fingers through it.

They were watching some old movie about robots and A.I. Connor picked it out. A man was on the screen, saying something about not liking robots simply because they adhere to the three rules their creators had programmed them to obey. It was strange. But then again, maybe Connor found it strange because he hadn’t been listening - he had something else on his mind.

 

”Hank, I’ve been meaning to ask you about something,” he said, his mouth feeling dry, even though that was impossible, ”something that you might find a bit strange.”

 

Hank could see a brief flash of yellow light out of the corner of his eye, before Connor’s LED settled back into it’s usual blue. At Hank’s age, at this point in their relationship, Hank could honestly not find it in himself to worry about what Connor was about to say. Yeah, he was a bit weirded out a few times when they first started out, but after Connor had had an orgasm as Hank was tinkering with some wires in Connor’s neck, helping him fix his damaged proprioception after an accident in the kitchen, there was really nothing that could faze Hank anymore. That is to say, he most likely wouldn’t find it weird or freak out, but he just might end up getting just a little bit turned on. Or a lot. That was usually the end result whenever Connor would bring up something new, or ask about ’something strange’.

 

”Hmm? What is it, then?”

 

Connor could feel Hank’s deep rumble in his sternum. He hadn’t actually meant for this night to be sexual in any way, he was still very much content to just _be_ with Hank, but that deep voice definitely did something for him.

 

”Well, uh… I was just thinking…” He did his best to force the words out. All of this was still new, despite the 5 months, 3 weeks and 2 days of practice he had. ”My chassis-”

 

”Chassis?” Hank almost drawled the word. Connor was still stroking his hair, and he was so comfortable…

 

”Yes, my ’actual’ body, what’s under my synthetic skin. It’s much more sensitive than my skin is.”

 

Suddenly, Hank was awake again. Sensitive? That word was good. Always good.

Connor didn’t seem to notice the shift in Hank’s attention.

 

”My skin is, like I said, synthetic. Its only purpose is to make us look more human. It doesn’t actually have any of the receptors needed to feel touch, vibration, stretch, pain, heat-”

 

”Pain? I thought you didn’t feel pain?” Hank was trying to turn around to look at Connor, but two inhumanly strong arms held him down. Connor was too comfortable (and perhaps a bit too embarrassed to be asking this question) to compromise their position on the couch.

However, without looking at Hank, he could tell from his tone of voice that he was worried. While his right hand stayed in Hank’s hair, his left hand drifted down to cup his cheek, mimicking Hank’s touch from earlier in the evening.

 

”I installed an upgrade not too long ago. I can’t feel excruciating pain, but I thought it would be interesting. Make me feel more alive. Also, it could be fun if you ever wanted to try spanking or other sexual activities involving a bit of pain. But as I was saying, my skin-”

 

Connor ignored how obviously dumbstruck Hank was by that last sentence.

 

”- doesn’t have the receptors necessary to feel those things. My chassis, however, does. It feels those things a lot, actually. Because the skin lowers the input somewhat, the receptors in my chassis are much more sensitive than a normal human’s skin, but with the synthetic skin covering the chassis, it’s about the same. What I wanted to ask you was-”

 

Hank, already half-hard, was racing through the possible outcomes of the situation. If he had an LED like an android, it would be spinning furiously, a glaring red.

 

”- would it be alright with you if I retract the skin on my right hand, so I can _really_ feel your hair? I promise it won’t be sexual, I just… I just want to be closer to you.”

 

Hank huffed out a little laugh, taken aback by the abrupt halt in his extremely sexual thoughts, realizing that the androids’ intentions were much more innocent. Instantly worried that Connor might take that the wrong way, he turned his head to the left and gently kissed the palm of Connor’s hand.

 

”Of course, Connor. I’m glad you asked me first, I know you don’t want me to freak out, but I promise you, I love all of you and all of the weird fuckin’ things you can do. That includes, uh… retractable… skin?” Granted, he lost track partway through his heartfelt confession, thinking about what sort of delicious sounds he could pull out of Connor, skin deactivated and overstimulated, stretched out on their bed. How many orgasms could he coax out of him? How many times could he make him beg…

 

He was startled out of his filthy thoughts by a sudden huff of air on the back of his neck. Connor had let out a small sigh of relief. Hank smiled, happy to be making his boyfriend happy.

 

Connor deactivated the skin on his hand and went back to petting Hank’s hair.

 

Hank did _not_ miss the small, but unmistakable sharp intake of breath as Connor started petting his hair again.

Connor’s body felt different against his. More solid than before, and his touch felt lighter. Maybe those fantasies about overstimulation weren’t all that crazy after all, Hank thought. He had a feeling that if Connor were human, he would have goosebumps right about now.

 

Hank turned his attention back to the TV, where the robots were now keeping humans hostage in their own homes. This hit a little too close to home, considering what almost happened in those camps 7 months ago. He leaned forward to change the channel, and Connor made a small sound of discontent as his hand left Hank’s hair. Hank paused. Changed the channel. Reruns of old comedy shows, that should be fine. He leaned back into Connor’s embrace, ears perking up as Connor made another small sound, a happy, calm sound this time.

 

As soon as Hank was settled, Connor went back to stroking his hair. He scratched Hank’s scalp lightly and brushed the hair out with his fingers. He was right. It did feel more intense without the skin. He felt every strand of hair glide across the smooth white plastic, almost caressing his fingers, with such intensity that it was bordering on uncomfortable, sending tendrils of pleasant tingling down his lower arm.

He tried to calm down a bit, thinking that Hank just wanted a quiet night. He stared at the TV screen, not actually seeing what was on there, as the tingling and tickling sensations in his hand were too distracting. He looked down at Hank, who was laughing quietly at the old shows, shifting a bit. Connor had said that the touch wouldn’t be sexual, but looking at Hank’s body laid out like this, listening to that deep voice and feeling so, _so_ safe… it was hard not to be affected by the situation.

 

At 53 years old (54, Hank would say. Still a few months to go, Connor would say), after a life of hunching over computers, doing weird shit while chasing runners and getting into the occasional brawl at bars, Hank’s back wasn’t what it used to be. He kept having to adjust his position, which Connor was usually fine with, as long as he didn’t have to break his hold on Hank. However, as Hank fought to stay awake, tired old man that he was, being lulled to sleep by the hand in his hair as well as Connor’s rhythmic, simulated breathing, he felt himself slipping off the couch a bit, and shuffled back up into Connor’s arms. As he did, he felt his lover’s erection poking into his lower back. It was _very_ obvious.

 

Connor’s entire body froze, including the simulated breathing, but the hand in his hair stayed in motion.

 

As Connor seemingly held his breath, Hank smiled to himself. Maybe he would get some of those fantasies out of his system after all.

He reached up and took Connor’s right hand out of his hair, carefully, as if he was afraid to shock those overactive receptors, and brought the hand to his lips, pressing them carefully to the palm of the uncovered chassis.

He still couldn’t see Connor, but he was 99% sure that he looked like a deer in headlights right now. He didn’t protest, however, so Hank decided to push his luck. He gingerly licked Connor’s palm, intensely focused on his body language - Connor had said that it wasn’t intended to be sexual, maybe Hank was going too far?

 

Connor’s breathing finally resumed, the first breath leaving his body like he had been punched in the gut. He stared at Hank, eyes wide, feeling shocked but pleased with this turn of events.

 

”O-” Hank’s voice cracked a bit, and he had to clear his throat. ”Okay?”

 

Connor nodded, too shocked and too excited for things to escalate to realize that Hank couldn’t actually see him nodding, as he was still lying with his back against Connor’s chest. He could feel the motion, however, so he pressed on.

 

He opened his mouth and took in the first two joints of Connor’s index finger, earning a sharp gasp from Connor. Hank thought about how different it felt, the slight static tingling on his tongue, how smoothly the muscle glided over the plastic, how he was starting to get hard again from the rush of manipulating Connor in such a delicate way. Connor thought about how mindblowingly intense it would feel to get a blowjob without the synthetic skin covering his dick. If only they both knew how the tables had turned, thought pattern-wise.

 

Hank continued to experiment with Connor’s finger. Licking resulted in soft, panting breaths. Sucking halted Connor’s breathing for a split second, just long enough to notice it. Scraping his teeth gently over the tip of the finger earned him another sharp intake of breath. Connor was losing his damn mind. It felt amazing, but not necessarily sexual. It was made sexual because of Hank’s heavy warmth on him, Hank’s steady presence and the thought of what else they could do with this newfound information about Connor’s body.

 

Abruptly, Hank stood up - Connor had become too distracted to keep up the tight embrace.

 

”I think we should go to the bedroom,” Hank blurted out. He spit the words out so quickly that Connor had to replay it and slow it down in order to understand. But of course, once he understood, he was _on_. He pushed past Hank, who just started laughing, and marched towards the bedroom while undressing. He knew that humans were usually made uncomfortable by the sight of a ’naked’ android, so he didn’t deactivate his skin right away. He wanted to deactivate it and throw himself onto the bed, writhe around in the soft sheets, feel every inch of Hank’s warm skin, take in all of the scars and dimples and wrinkles and _oh god_ , he _wanted_. He wanted all of it. But he waited, naked - but not as naked as he could be - on the bed.

 

Hank wasn’t far behind him, undressing as Connor was lying on the bed, both of them taking in the sight of each other. Hank had a sneaking suspicion that the reason why Connor still had his synthetic skin on was because he didn’t want to upset Hank. Bullshit.

Crawling onto the bed, Hank started at Connor’s hip, kissing he way up the lightly freckled, pale chest, under his jaw, up to his ear, where he whispered ”it’s okay.”

He gently stroked the side of Connor’s neck as he properly straddled his hips. Connor deactivated the patch of skin, craning his head to the side in anticipation of what was to come. Hank leaned down, peppering the exposed chassis with tiny kisses, reveling in the small gasps from Connor every time his lips touched the plastic. Emboldened by his lover’s reaction, he decided to go all in: he licked a broad stripe from Connor’s collarbone to the angle of his jaw.

 

Connor moaned at that, his now-skinless hands tangling in the grey hair once again, his body unsure of whether to curl into Hank or shy away from the overstimulation. He chose the former and tugged gently on Hank’s hair, prompting him to do it again. Hank happily obliged.

 

The android still didn’t want to deactivate all of his skin at once, but deactivated it in broad stripes, following as Hank’s hand slid down his chest to wrap a hand around his erection. He hesitated, trying to look at the hand, making a strangled sound at the combination of being kissed, licked, nipped on the neck and having that big, warm hand stroking him. Steeling himself, he bared the chassis of his entire pelvis and genitals.

 

Suddenly, much to Hank’s surprise and enjoyment, Connor almost choked on his own breath, gasping and then moaning loudly, his entire body taut as a bowstring as he came all over Hank’s hand and his own belly, shivering and thrashing as he was completely overwhelmed by the intense ripples of pleasure.

 

Hank kept stroking until Connor, just barely keeping himself from sobbing with pleasure, started pushing on his chest to get him to stop. He withdrew his hand, locking eyes with Connor as he licked his cum off his thumb. Connor threw an arm over his eyes. Right on cue, the temperature warning flashed in front of his eyes. He wasn’t about to let that deter him from exploring these new possibilites.

 

Hank was having fun, honestly. He hummed as he licked the almost tasteless cum off his hand, thinking that Connor was spent for the night. Looking down to grasp his own cock, he realized that Connor was still hard. He looked up at the android and opened his mouth to say… something. He forgot what he meant to say immediately, as Connor surged up at him, white plastic showing in uneven patches all over his upper body and pelvis, and furiously kissed the older man. He would have made some joke about refractory time, and about Connor being a sex fiend or something like that as he was being kissed, but no sooner had he thought of what to say, when Connor flipped them, so he was straddling Hank. Or, he straddled Hank for all of 1 second, and then moved down to take his entire cock all the way down into his throat, baring the plastic around his mouth and nose as he did. Hank’s pubic hair tickled in a way that was more pleasant than usual.

 

”Jesus fucking christ! What the f-… what the fuck…” Hank huffed and moaned, almost blinded by this sudden onslaught, but not complaining. At. All. Now he was the one to weave his fingers into his lovers hair, tugging gently and trying to slow him down - Hank’s refractory period was more like… 8 hours at this point. He didn’t want to finish too early.

 

Connor slowed down, just barely, but moaned loudly around the cock in his throat. He wrapped a hand around himself, and white-hot lines of pleasure spiked through his limbs, his body jerking and accidentally shoving Hank’s member even farther down his throat. Not that it mattered - androids don’t eat, so a gag reflex was never installed.

He was _so_ overwhelmed, but just couldn’t stop. Suddenly, a sharp tug on his hair brought him back to reality - apparently, he had gotten lost in his own thoughts, but as he started paying attention again, the buzzing of unsteady sound above him turned out to be Hank babbling.

 

”Connor, holy shit, that’s so good, baby, but jesus fuck, calm down, I can’t-, I’m gonna come, please…”

 

Connor lifted his mouth off of Hank’s cock with a very theatrical (and intentional) pop, causing a deep (and unintentional) groan to escape Hank. For a while, they stared at each other, too consumed with lust to think of something to say. Hank was broke the silence, huffing and puffing as he spoke.

 

”Okay… fuck, uh… can you lie back down? I had a plan when I came in here, you know. Holy shit…”

 

Connor was too far gone to do anything but obey. He all but shoved Hank out of the way so he could lie in the middle of their bed, more and more skin retracting to expose plastic, once again writhing against the sheets and desperately taking in as much sensation as he could handle. The temperature warnings were getting more persistent. He honestly couldn’t care less at the moment.

 

Hank was kneeling beside Connor, fascinated by his responsiveness. He was also a bit surprised at his own reaction. So much of Connor’s chassis was showing on his upper body and his pelvis, but Hank wasn’t weirded out at all. He loved Connor _so much_ , no matter what he looked like. He knew he was a robot, and being confronted with that fact had no impact on him. He just… loved him.

 

Connor looked up at Hank, desperation in his eyes fading a bit, as he started to worry that Hank was uncomfortable with the missing patches of skin. He began to regenerate it, but Hank all but slapped his hand onto an exposed spot, Connor hissing from the pain. Hank apologized and gently rubbed the plastic.

 

”Shit, sorry, baby. I just… it’s okay. It’s not weird. Honestly, it’s incredibly fucking hot.” His voice was gruff and already slightly worn from moaning at Connor’s attack.

 

”Hank, please… please just do something. I need it.” _Daddy,_ he wanted to add on.

 

Hank didn’t need to be told twice. He smiled a but too devilishly for Connor’s liking at that moment, and moved in between Connor’s legs. He stroked his hands up the smooth inner thighs, his touch becoming much gentler as the skin retracted. Several of Connor’s higher processes slowed down or simply froze. He stared at Hank, who looked up at him with such reverence that it quite literally took his simulated breath away. Hank’s touch was so gentle, so light, but somehow felt heavy on his skin, heavy in his chest. He loved Hank more than he could describe, but the tender moment was abruptly cut short as Hank’s fingers brushed against Connor’s testicles, and he arched into the touch with a loud, high-pitched moan.

 

”Jesus christ, Connor…” Hank’s mind was on a loop. Jesus christ, holy shit, I love you, this is so hot, I need to fuck you, I need you in my mouth, I love you, I need you to fuck me, I love you, I love you, _I love you_.

He finally took the tip of Connor’s dick into his mouth, and Connor jerked into and away from the touch, his body moving like he had no idea how to cope with all this pleasure. Hank _slowly_ worked his way down as Connor all but sobbed, needing him to go faster, deeper, moremoremore. As Connor was nearing his breaking point, heat pooling low in his abdomen, Hank abruptly broke off, simply stroking up and down Connor’s legs. Connor’s entire upper body lifted from the bed, plastic hands desperately trying to grasp his uncovered cock, only to be quickly and efficiently swatted away by Hank.

 

”Hank, _please_. Please, I need to cum. Please…” Connor sounded so wanton, so tortured, and Hank couldn’t bring himself to be _that_ cruel. Taking pity on Connor, he brushed his fingers over his testicles once again, making Connor’s hips jerk forward, and moving further down to gently rub against his tight, automatically lubricated hole. Connor sucked air in through his teeth and bucked, he just needed _a bit more, something, anything_ to cum again. That something turned out to be a mouth on his dick, as Hank once again closed his lips around the tip and slid halfway down. Two more pumps of Hank’s mouth and Connor’s mewled and whimpered and whined as he emptied himself in Hank’s mouth, chanting ”Fuck, Hank, oh my god, oh god, I love- love y-you, oh god…”

 

Hank swallowed again (jesus, how much artifical cum had Connor loaded up on?), foolishly thinking that was it. His plan was to get Connor to suck his dick once more, maybe cumming down his throat, maybe on his pretty, welcoming face. Foolishly.

As he looked up at Connor, he was stunned to see his entire chassis exposed. Beautiful. He somehow looked the same, but now he was completely hairless, even the top of his head, and he looked like a strong, lithe marble sculpture. Or he would have, were it not for every muscle in his body shaking, electrical currents going haywire, his dick softening slighty, but immediately hardening again as Hank stroked his hands over as much plastic as he could reach, fascinated by Connor’s responsiveness. Until he heard a quiet, raspy ”stop.”

 

He immediately sat back, afraid to even touch Connor. He had never heard him sound like that. His voice was naturally (from the factory..?) slightly raspy, but now he sounded _ruined_. Hank thought back to a day a long time ago (if he had asked Connor, he would have been told that it was 7 months and 6 days ago) where he had said that Connor looked ”goofy” and had a ”weird voice”. If only he could see himself now, naked in bed with this beautiful android, this beautiful man, voice modulator seemingly overloaded, panting and shaking, Hank’s dick hard as a rock and leaking precum. 7 months and 6 days ago, Hank would _not_ have believed it.

 

Sitting with his legs over the side of the bed, Hank’s hand hovered over Connor’s shoulder, not wanting to completely overload him. ”You okay, baby?”

 

Connor’s eyes were closed, and his shaking was starting to subside. His erection was not subsiding. ”I’m… good. I’m so, so good,” he mumbled, head rolling carefully from side to side. ”But. Uh. Can we… go again?”

 

Hank spluttered out a laugh, absolutely stunned with the tenacity of this damn android. He felt like saying ’Don’t mind if I do!’ but worry overtook him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes momentarily, trying not to focus on the way a small drop of precum was on the verge of sliding down his dick. ”Are you sure you can handle it?” he asked, forcing the question out, worried, as he opened his eyes. ”I mean, I’m pretty sure that sound you’re making is some sort of cooling thing.”

 

Connor’s thirium seemed to rush in his ears, but now that Hank mentioned it… yeah. Internal fans. He really needed a hardware upgrade to deal with this. Unperturbed, he just sighed a quick and desperate ”yes”, and grabbed Hank’s shoulders to pull him back down on top of his completely uncovered body, shivering with the feeling of all that skin on him.

 

Hank groaned loudly and desperately into Connor’s mouth, almost sounding like a wounded animal as he would starting to go crazy with longing for Connor. And blue balls. The heart and dick wants what it wants.

 

Things escalated quickly from there. Hastily shoving and maneuvering Hank into position, Connor made it _very_ clear that Hank was going to have to fuck him as soon as possible. Hank had absolutely no protests to come up with. However, in his last act of self control that evening, he scissored Connor open with two fingers, despite there being absolutely no reason to do so. Connor angrily hissed at him ”Damn it, Lieutenant! Just fuck me!”

In spite of it all, Hank laughed a bit, as it was almost always comical to see Connor react like that. He quickly withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his cock, immediately bottoming out. Connor threw his head back and spat out more swearwords than Hank realized he knew, one hand tightening painfully around Hank’s arm, the other tangled in the sheets directly above his head. Hank spread Connor’s legs a little more, before immediately fucking him in earnest.

 

The unfamiliar sounds of skin slapping against plastic filled the room. In his haze of pleasure, stimulated by the sheets, by Hank, by the very air in the room, Connor registered two things: temperature warnings, utterly ignored, and the slight sting of skin hitting his backside again and again, harder and harder. The thought of being spanking popped back into his mind, and he lost all control of his moans and groans. His voice modulator was reaching the end of its capabilities, and a static overlay worked itself into Connor’s voice, but he simply didn’t have the capacity to care or even register it anymore.

 

Hank registered it, though. Fuck, that was hot. Fucking Connor so hard that his body could barely keep up. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hank knew that the bared chassis had a lot to do with it, but he let his ego swell a bit none the less. He wrapped his hand around Connor’s oozing dick, stroking lightly, afraid to hurt him if he went too fast or too hard, but moved his hips hard and fast, snapping into place, burying himself in Connor’s tight heat again and again and again. Caught up in the moment, he forgot to aim for that very convenient bundle of wires that effectively acted as Connor’s prostate, but ended up hitting it anyways.

 

Connor _wailed_.

 

Static overlaying his voice, body tensing all over, hands ripping the sheets and leaving a bruises on Hank’s arm, Connor came once more, completely lost in the euphoria of it all. Hank barely registered the crushing grip on his upper arm, as the sight and sound of Connor being so _utterly_ devastated left him breathless, and he emptied himself into Connor, groaning loud, long and deep.

Hank stayed in Connor for what felt like hours, and felt himself slowly going soft again. He was almost unable to move, partially because of the fact that all of his limbs felt like jelly, but also because he was fascinated with the sight before him. Connor’s eyes were closed, muscles still gently contracting and relaxing, internal fans whirring away. Patches of skin bloomed all over his body, hair sprouting on his head, eyebrows, in a small smattering from his navel to his groin. It was beautiful.

 

Eventually, Hank pulled out of Connor, who scrunched up his nose at the frankly gross squelch it resulted in, but also because of the emptiness he felt without Hank inside him. Hank laid down next to him, panting and dripping with sweat. Connor wanted to curl into him, but he was waiting for his motor systems to reboot properly.

 

”We usually talk more, don’t we?”

 

Connor grunted. It sounded like he was trying to say ”what?”

 

”We usually say more when we fuck. You calling me daddy, begging me to fuck you, me telling you off for being so needy and all of that.”

 

Connor grunted again. Hank laughed and curled into Connor, his head on his shoulder. Connor’s systems had rebooted and he could finally put an arm around Hank and pull him close.

 

”We definitely need to do that again sometime. That was fucking hot.” Hank sounded like he was completely in awe, gentle stroking Connor’s now covered chest. ”And BEFORE YOU ASK,” he barked, seeing the worried look on Connor’s face, ”No, I did NOT think it was weird seeing you without skin. It was awesome. No shit. I’m serious. Hey, stop laughing at me!”

 

Connor wasn’t laughing at him. He was just relieved, overwhelmed, grateful, that he had ended up with such a wonderful, beautiful, caring man. Even if he hadn’t seemed that way at first.

 

”I’m not laughing at you, I’m just… I love you. So much.”

 

Hank’s face softened, and he pressed one more gentle kiss to Connor’s cheekbone, right below the eye. ”I love you too.”

 

Suddenly, they both heard Sumo yawn with a loud whine from the living room. They had been too caught up in the moment to remember that he was even there, but they were too spent to do anything but smile and laugh when they heard claws against the floor and felt the small bear jump into bed with them, settling at their feet.

 

They were still going to work tomorrow, there was still tension between androids and humans, still tension between Russia and the US. There were still so many things going on out there, but in here, it was perfect.

 

Now that Connor had been completely bare, more so than when Hank had fiddled around with his wires, he felt like something was taking up space inside him, fluttering around his chest and abdomen.

 

Connor had fallen in love with Hank Anderson exactly 7 months ago. He thought of the coming months, years, decades and held onto Hank, knowing that he would love him for as long as Hank would let him.

**Author's Note:**

> When Hank commented on how they didn't talk very much during their bangin', that was my way of getting around not writing dialogue, because dialogue honestly scares me... Anyways, getting fucked so good that you gotta reboot your motor systems has got to be a real treat. God I wish that was me


End file.
